I learned the alphabet playing Scrabble. The only problem was, at three, I was certain the game was called “Scramble.”

My logophilia (love of words) started early. Mixing and matching the Scrabble tiles to spell out eventual sentences mesmerized me for hours on end. Although I didn’t master the art of actual game playing until perhaps five or six, the combination of tiles sliding across the table was enthralling enough.

My very first spoken word was “Teeth” -- a solid eight points. Better than “Mom” or “Dad,” at least. Although my parents thought this word choice meant I might become a dentist, when you start a gal on Scrabble at age three, what do you expect? Of course, you end up with a writer.

By age eleven, I could play competitively against my mom. She learned early on that I didn’t need her to take any pity penalties at the start of the game. Most of my successes were because I memorized those killer two-letter-words. Xi, Gi, or Ka on a triple letter score in the final rounds? Deadly.

Soon after that, I was introduced to Bananagrams. Like Scrabble, but faster! More furious! Endless possibilities for arranging and rearranging. Not having to share the board with competitors fueled my strategic thinking, and I’ll let you in on a little trick: sort your letters by vowels and consonants. That way, you can more easily put together juicy words to jump off from.

Unfortunately, none of my friends quite shared my passion. The unbridled joy I felt from a speed-based word game wasn’t matched by many other fifth graders I knew. Fortunately, I never got quite so desperate that I would try to play Bananagrams against myself (likely an impossible feat, unless one was ambidextrous and had two pairs of eyes)

What other natural next course of action would there be for someone so passionate about words as I am but to study English? English literature is woven of powerful, wonderful words. I use those words as a storyteller to capture and communicate delightful, inspiring, moving narratives. And I maintain my lifelong logophilia, born from “Scramble.”